Cell Mates
by Shaynie
Summary: The brothers fight their own fears and discover themselves in police cells as much as outside. What happens in between. DS


Title: Cell mates

Author: shaynie

Rating: R

Disclaimer: I own nothing, and I have never been to any of the towns mentioned, so please cut some slack.

Warnings: Wincest, Non-con implied

The smell is the worst of it. It always smells like a mixture of vomit, urine and stale beer. The mystery puddle in the corner near the urinal is no real surprise, and Sam thinks he can see chunks in it, but then it's dark enough in here that he's not sure. He doesn't want to get any closer to it than he has to to check if it is vomit. It's summer, and the humidity only makes the smell worse. He knows it'll be worse the closer he gets to that side of the room so he curls up a bit in the corner of the cell. They don't clean out the drunk tank as much as they should, these police, they feel it'll make the experience that much more unpleasant.

This cell is empty. Sam's not drunk, but in a town of this size they don't have much in the way of room for people. They've been in Danville, Virginia for the past two weeks trying to catch a will o' the wisp. Unfortunately with people getting lost in mire and mud there's not much the police are trusting, so Sam's in the drunk tank for the night, just to make sure he's not the psychotic murderer they're after.

The only way they can get rid of the will o' the wisp is to find the treasure it's guarding, or so legend goes. The only way to do that is to follow the silly thing without getting caught in the swamps it leads you into. The lights are bright enough to blind and mesmerize which is why so many had gone 'missing'.

So, the cops blame him, so he spends another night in an empty cell, staring morosely at the ceiling.

There's no way he's sleeping without Dean around to make sure he wakes up from his nightmares. So he stares at that ceiling for a long time.

* * *

"Ya know, you guys run a real joint here. Not even offering water for a guest." The police stare at him in disgust as they lock the cell. Even with his quipping, Dean has to admit this is one of the nicer jails he's been stuck in.

Sam had managed to duck out being caught in Gillet, AK by moving at just the right time. Dean had carefully distracted the police officers from Sam's mad dash across the river. They had been so i close /i to getting the creature to stop pestering the town.

But children were missing. And here were two strangers that had popped up just when the kids had started to disappear. They hadn't noticed the tail when they hit the river. Where they were trying to get rid of that malformed Japanese demon-thing. The only defense they could think of against a kappa was a case of freaking cucumbers. It had confused Sam as to why the kappa had even been there, bloody thing had only spoken Japanese at them and they hadn't understood a damn thing. Sam had thrown a case of the vegetables at the thing and hoped it would be enough.

The kappa had just been about to agree to stop pestering the townspeople (well, they thought it was about to anyways) when the cops had appeared, grabbing Dean and shoving him to the ground. They'd thought he had a gun in his hand. He'd had a freaking cucumber. They still held him, though, on suspicious behaviour. Apparently walking around by a river with a vegetable was grounds to be taken in to the police station. Though, come to think of it, with the cell spotless he was starting to get really weirded out. The song from Deliverance stuck in his head with the way that guard was looking at him.

He shuddered, and hoped Sam would get his ass down to the station soon.

It turns out he hadn't gotten there soon enough.

* * *

It wasn't often when both of them were stuck in a cell. This time had apparently been their lucky trip. Morgan, UT was a blip of a town that had a problem. 

But they all had problems, so Sam wasn't going to complain.

It was safer being in the jail than anywhere else right now anyways. A cockatrice was loose in Morgan. The stupid thing was dumber than a post, but as it had started to ravage the town, and there wasn't much they could do.

The unfortunate thing was that the person who had gotten his hands on the bird was the town bartender. He had intended to use it as a way to get back at all the "young folks ruinin' their fine city", but well. Sam grimaced. He remembered seeing the man's ravaged corpse. The creatures didn't normally eat the dead after killing them, but this one was apparently extra vicious. It had holed up in a cave nearby.

The police hadn't liked the young "reporters" questioning the victims families. They had thrown them into the cell without even reading them their rights, and hadn't bothered to fingerprint either of them, thankfully. If they had it might have been a rougher night.

Sam was tired of getting black off of his hands.

Dean had been quiet since the last police visit, and was a bit jumpier than usual. Sam hadn't questioned too closely, he had a feeling he knew what had happened and he just.

He didn't need to know some things.

He let his hand touch his brother's back gently.

Dean jumped, turning around with a punch ready before even registering who had touched him. Sam blocked it with a grimace and stared at his brother. Dean glanced at him defiantly before turning away again.

"You have to talk about it..." Sam started, his voice weak.

Dean snorted. "Just like you do, right Sammy? Just like you'll tell me all about those dreams. What am I gonna talk about, huh? Am I going to tell you that it hurt? Do you even want to know." Dean's voice was hard, defensive.

Sam stared at him, eyes widening. "Dean..." His voice was gentle.

Dean turned away again, staring out the small window they had. The officer walked by their cell, glancing in curiously and Dean jumped a bit again. Uniforms shouldn't look the same in every state, but these did. He looked his brother in the eye, and smiled, the look not reaching his eyes.

It hardly ever reaches his eyes anymore. Sam moved his hand forward to touch his brother's face gently, but Dean shoved his hand away. "You think I'm some kinda doll, Sammy? I'm fine."

The hard edge was still there.

Dean stared at him a bit more. Sam started to talk, but then Dean's finger was on his lips.

"Shhh." The sudden switch in mood caused Sam's head to spin as he tried to catch up. His brother was so unpredictable at the best of times, there was no chance he could catch up...

And then lips were on his. Hard and demanding, Dean was almost grinding his teeth against Sam's mouth. It hurt, but it was there, and it was all Dean.

This was Dean at his most honest, so Sam complied to the want. Sam opened his mouth against the demand, stiffening as he felt Dean's hand clamp onto his jeans, grabbing roughly through the material of his pants. Sam ground up in the familiar game, trying to ignore the odd background voice that always appeared when he and Dean began...

The cell clanked open and the officer ripped them apart, growling in reaction.

The man smirked at him in a way Sam only hoped was anger as he pushed him out of the cell, locking Dean into another night of anxiety.

* * *

The Impala looked tired when they finally managed to find the demon. The car had been been through almost as much as they had in the last few weeks, though it had probably gotten more rest.

It had been a low level Abaddon; a war demon. They had no names at that level, they never had, and the demon had glared at them spitefully when they had found it. They had hemmed the thing in slowly, and sprung their trap in the middle of the forest. They had noticed similarities in their trek across country and had finally found the reason after killing the cockatrice.

They were covered in black ichor and dirt, bloody gashes half closed with ripped fabric. Sam ached everywhere, and he knew his ribs were bruised at the very least. Dean was limping heavily, favouring his left foot.

So now, there was no fear of police, state trooper or otherwise, with where they were. The finale of their little play weeks after it had started. Sam hadn't jumped when Dean had touched him on the shoulder, though he grunted when he was slammed against the car, the impala rocking a bit.

Dean pulled him down roughly, growling in need and frustration. Sam responded just as hurriedly, grabbing at the belt on his brother's pants and almost ripping it off. Dean moved towards him, trying to press as much of his body against his brother's as possible, flattening Sam's hands in the process.

Dean gripped Sam's hands and moved them lower, grinding against him in a way that always meant the car bruised his back. Sam simultaneously moaned and thrust against his brother harder ignoring the pain in his ribs.

The adrenaline rush always made these encounters faster than they should have been, and when Dean spun him onto the ground Sam exhaled in pain as his shoulder slammed into rock. Dean grinned down at him cockily, leaning down against his brother's body. His hand moved towards Sam's jeans and he rubbed, hard, making Sam writhe against him. Sam arched into Dean's touch and Dean grinned before pinning him with swift, brutal kisses.

They say that sex is a response to near death experiences, reaffirming life in a carnal way. It's always been more than that between Sam and Dean, no matter other differences in their lives. They were cell mates that couldn't run from each other.


End file.
